


Parasocial Interaction

by theleaderofantifa



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Impersonation, Masturbation, Other, Parasocial relationship, SWERFs don't interact, Self Service, Sex Work, Starring Megatron as "Sir Not Appearing in this Film", Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tarn is a simp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaderofantifa/pseuds/theleaderofantifa
Summary: Tarn has a new fascination... and is spending an increasing amount of time online.Railway belongs to @kessbnu on twitter.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Parasocial Interaction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kess/gifts).



**“Parasocial Interaction”** - _a kind of psychological relationship experienced by members of an audience in their mediated encounters with certain performers in the mass media, particularly on television, or in the era of increasing online interactions: social media._

-

**Tarn was obsessed.** -Not in any publicly observable way. (He considered himself a bastion of bureaucracy and the very face of Decepticon professionalism, after all.) …But lately, in the private moments alone to his own thoughts, his mind always drifted back to the same subject. 

Zoning out in the quiet moments between meetings on the _Peaceful Tyranny_ , he saw in his mind’s eye a gun metal helmet sloped to the shoulders, framing a too-pretty face with high cheekbones, a strong but slender jaw, and luscious lips holding a voice that wasn’t quite as gruff as what he was accustomed to over business calls and propaganda pieces, but which was none the less evocative.

Tarn also exposed himself to daily reminders from his object of admiration. Tarn was glad he had his mask to hide his blush as he had to dismiss the notifications went off on his personal messaging device throughout the workday.

Tarn found himself looking forward to the end of his shifts when he could freely indulge himself. Perhaps his intensifying interest was bordering on unhealthy, but Tarn did not yet see it as detrimental to his work. It brightened his mood, honestly. Gave him something positive to look forward to every day.

Once Tarn arrived at his habitation suite after the labors of the day were done, he immediately pulled out his coms to review his text updates from the day. Laying back on his recharge slab, he opened the application for “OnlyCons” and smiled looking at the messages sent to him throughout the day.

The profile he subscribed to belonged to a handsome mech by the name of “Railway” who bore a striking resemblance to Megatron. He had a train alt mode, but in many ways, the distinction between a locomotive and Megatron’s current tank alt were negligible. He was nearly identical to Megatron in every way that mattered. Except that Railway felt _accessible._

Tarn was a long-term subscriber and frequent tipper. He’d even paid an additional 30 shanix this deca-cycle to be included in the “Endura Package” – wherein he received, in addition to regular subscription updates, daily texts, check-ins, and opportunities for conversation with Railway. This was, for some of Railway’s clients, a way to forestall loneliness on the battlefront and fantasize about a relationship with a handsome performer... or for the likes of Tarn, a personalized roleplay opportunity for Bots and Cons with a closet fetish for Megatron.

* * *

**Lightyears away,** Railway removed his standard purple helm and began to fasten the clasps of the helmet he would be using for his Megatron impersonation on livestream for his subscribers that night. His costar walked into the hab suite and posed with their hands on their hips.

“Well?” They asked, “What do you think of the costume?”

Railway looked over the dime store Optimus Prime ensemble his peer had pitched together. Railway briefly wondered how he had gotten saddled with this novice collaborator. They were less than a B-grade impersonator. Although mostly accurate to Prime’s palette, the paint was slapdash and their frame type was all wrong. -Whoever heard of an Optimus Prime with helicopter blades?

Railway had previously tried to reach out to other performers, but aside from this bot and one other mech, everyone’s schedule had been incompatible. Visually, he might have preferred the other mech, but in their correspondence, he had seemed insufferable, and further investigation into his social media suggested he might have just been an Autobot infiltrator with a Prime-complex anyway.

“It could use some work,” Railway mused as he noted the uneven red paint, “but it’s hardly as if we market ourselves as being high budget or classy. -That’s one of the things I love about independent porn. Low standards are so artistically liberating.”

“…You don’t like it though.”

“No, I wouldn’t say that. It just needs some work.” Railway concentrated on his reflection as he painted on his eye liner. “Come over here when I’m done primping, and I’ll fix your make-up. If the face and the helm look right, people are usually willing to ignore the inaccuracies in everything else.”

Railway glimpsed at his console across the room and smiled to himself looking his subscriber count. He was one of the most popular producers on the OnlyCons platform, and while he owed much of his success to his looks and ability to fill a marketable niche, he’d worked hard to get this far. The money he made these days was more than he would have ever made in his Functionist-assigned profession- and he was more than happy to voluntarily redistribute a chunk of those funds into advancing the collective, as the unionized platform of independent performers on OnlyCons required.

Before the Revolution, some activists and theorists had insisted that sex work would die out after alt mode equality and economic equity were achieved. “When everyone’s basic needs are met and we eliminate the profit motive, there will be no prostitution! All sexual exchanges will simply become standard relationships based on emotional connection and mutual gratification, since we have no need for wages and nothing will be done under coercion” …so they had claimed. Yet here the industry was, persisting.

Sex was a service, and whether under monetary, gift, or barter economy: Railway was selling.

It was, in his own way, revolutionary. Any bot could sell sex, regardless of their frame type. In a society which had always policed the very bodies of its citizens through alt-mode discrimination, capital punishment and Shadowplay- for him, what had started as a means to survive under economic oppression was also a massive “fuck you” to the system itself.

He could have quit at any time back on pre-war Cybertron and returned to his allotted job as a transportation mech. But his choice to reject that career to instead sell sex represented ownership over his own body and control of his own means of production. It was radical.

-It was no wonder then, that sex work on antebellum Cybertron had been highly criminalized except under circumstances where the already-powerful stood to profit.

* * *

**Tarn propped himself up** on his recharge station and opened the link to the upcoming livestream. Some fellow subscribers were already in the chatroom. Tarn didn’t like to interact with other fans much. Acknowledging other audience members sometimes made the interactions feel less personal. And part of what had him so attracted was Railway’s ability to make a performance feel… intimate.

\---

“Alright, well, I’ve got the camera set up, so are you ready to get going?”

“Yep, ready to go.”

\---

Railway’s face, austere in his Megatron garb, flashed onto the com screen. Tarn opened his panel.

\---

Railway did the usual introductions and advertised his costar, encouraging his viewers to subscribe to their content, then shot a few interactive questions to the livestream chat to encourage engagement (and tipping) throughout the performance.

\---

Tarn opened a compartment beside his seat and dipped his right digits into an almost empty can of lubricant as the performers began to pin each other to the floor in an eroticized simulation of wrestling.

\---

“One shall stand, and one shall fall, Megatron!”

“Always a fight over positions with you, Prime!”

\---

Tarn lathered his spike slowly with lubricant as Railway’s Megatron bent over, aft in the air. He gave a few strokes along his length, then spiraled his thumb clockwise around the head as he built up an erection, focusing on the events on screen.

\---

Railway let his partner insert their spike into his valve, then after a few tentative, lackluster strokes at the start, rolled himself over, gripped the inside of the imitation Prime’s knees, and wrapped his legs around their waist, pulling himself in hard on their spike.  
\---

Tarn began to jack off.  
\---

Railway rocked with his hips and used his whole body to control his motion up and down the spike. The would-be Prime responded by moving their hands to hold his hips and then thrusting in and out with their own hip rotation, following his motion.  
\---

If Megatron was under him like that… Tarn reflexively tightened his own grip and doubled down harder on his spike.  
-But he began to feel himself reach a plateau of sexual stimulation. Tarn was familiar with this hurdle. A certain amount of activation energy was seemingly required before he could hit his first overload, which was sometimes a dilemma. Unless he intensified his stimulation, he’d find himself edging for most of a masturbation session.

\---

The pair on livestream broke apart. Like they’d discussed beforehand, Railway and his partner moved to change positions.  
“I’ll have _you_ now, Prime,” Railway used his best Megatron imitation. -It wasn’t a terribly accurate voice imitation (although Railway had messaged an internet-famous Con with a notoriously similar voice named Nautilator for pointers before), but his acting carried the authority of the tyrant’s tone.

A mirror on the back of the set reflected the image of Railway’s spike plunging into his partner’s valve in full clarity. The actor playing Prime moaned emphatically.

\---

Tarn relinquished his hold on his spike and began to trace his fingers back towards his own valve, gently beginning to dip his fingers in… then timing the deepening thrusts of his hand with the pulsing thrusts of Railway on screen. Would that that were him under Megatron, taking in his fullness-

-that is, under Railway- No, under Megatron… Megatron- Railway- Megatron- Railway--

“Does the distinction really matter anyway?”

\---

Fluids were splurting everywhere- both in Tarn’s hab suite and on Railway’s set. The high definition microphone on scene was able to pick up the squelching noises.

Tarn reared his head back, and without much fanfare, came for the first time that evening. Tarn had been jerking off regularly like this multiple times each day for a few weeks now, and thus his ejaculate didn’t get much altitude. Transfluid poured out of his spike, but he continued thrusting into his valve, and clear discharge continued to eek from his crevice onto the berth.

He would continue to stimulate himself through his recuperation period until he could reinflate his spike and bring himself into a heavier overload- perhaps using some of the toys hidden in his wall compartment as well.

* * *

**Railway’s performance** concluded after about 45 clicks with a thank you to the fans and some light quips regarding the transparent silicone axe and mace that had been utilized during the performance.

Tarn concluded with lubricant dripping off his entire body, giving ragged, savage breaths as both his knees shook involuntarily. He’d message Railway over DMs exactly how much he’d appreciated this performance…

Other audience members took to the chat.

“So fuckin hot. Pounded by Prime and Megatron… ngl that’s my fantasy <3”

“Another stunning performance, Railway-senpai. xoxo”

“Yooooo where can I buy the custom weapon sex toys tho??”

“U play Megatron so sexy I’m willing to temporarily forget abt the Prion resistance and the Iacon pact.”

Coming out of his haze, the last comment struck a nerve with Tarn, who hastily fashioned a response calling upon the usual talking points.

“Um? The native Prion rebels were outflanked and taken by surprise actually, and the Decepticon army couldn’t have gotten there in time without major casualties. Also, the rebels were known to contain Autobot sympathizers among their ranks, and probably would have turned on Megatron after he had saved them anyways. And the Iacon pact was a tactical necessity, lol. The claims that it was tantamount to collaborating with the Functionists or sacrificing Decepticon lives is Autobot propaganda. Megatron was doing the best he could and had to make hard decisions for his people and the common good of the intergalactic struggle.”

“Dude, stop defending Megatron’s role in abetting the genocide of Prion. He’s not gonna fuck you.”

Tarn gritted his denta and pulled out his work folder. **Someone was going on the List.**

**Author's Note:**

> Railway is an OC belonging to @kessbnu on twitter, and this fic is a gift to them. A gift produced in < 24 hours with no proofreading. But a gift, nonetheless.


End file.
